


Date Night

by drowsyfantasy



Series: Grinding Rep [5]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff, Humor, POV Female Character, POV Second Person, Silly, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-08-16 18:52:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16500842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drowsyfantasy/pseuds/drowsyfantasy
Summary: Welcome back to the secret bonus scenes. "Romance can wait for exalted"? Well, you're exalted now, baby! Enjoy! Please comment any requests you might have and I'll add a chapter just for you! Part of the Grinding Rep series.





	1. Farondis

Well, you made it. The defeat of the Legion, the scouring of what was left on Argus, and home to Azeroth again. The giant sword sticking out of the side of your planet makes the back of your mind itch as you ignore summons after summons from your faction leader, but right now, you’re fucking on holiday.

Let them make war.

You’re here to make _love_. Sweet, sweet _love_.

Chilling in Farondale has become a beloved pastime of yours, even before you hit exalted with this faction. The relationship you have with the Prince has long since been divulged to his ghostly citizens, but ever since you helped expel Queen Azshara’s forces from the area - and taken back the Tidestone to Dalaran - they’ve warmed up a lot.

For cold ghosts, that is.

As you pick your way through the hanging gardens and fix a few flower buckets, one of the guards comes up to you. She casually begins a conversation, and the two of you chat for a few moments before she takes her leave. It’s not uncommon for them to want reports - along with being cursed to remain as ghosts, they can’t really leave, so it’s important for them to still feel like a part of this world by getting news from the outside.

You’d totally bring them with you if you could. You kind of have a soft spot for these folks.

Farondis himself often waits for you in his personal gardens. The palace has been in better states these days without constant bombardment from the Legion and allied forces. Most of his ghostly citizens, though still not happy with being landlocked, are trying to make the most of unlife. Turns out ten thousand years of self-loathing can do that to a person. Elf. Whatever.

“Beloved.” You hear his voice before you spot him, and when you turn, he approaches you, arms full of flowers. Ghostly interactions are still a bit iffy, but with a heck of a lot of willpower, things seem to be going a bit more smoothly. After all, they’re cleaning up the grounds with elbow grease and not just magic. “I’d been waiting for you.”

Grinning, you come and take a flower from his arms. He beams at you. No longer his ‘Champion’, but his ‘Beloved’, and damn that sounds nice. “Good morning.” You hold the flower to your nose. The fragrance is sweet and inviting. “It’s good to be back.”

Sweeping to one side, Prince Farondis places the cut bouquet into a stone vase on top of a pillar, then comes and takes your hands. His ghostly fingers intertwine with yours, squeezing very gently. “Thank you for coming, Beloved. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen you, and I was beginning to think you weren’t coming back.”

“Bah. I told you, I’m not leaving you again, forever and ever, remember?” You tease him, scolding almost, leaning in and bumping his nose with yours. He blinks, then grins. “Even if I can’t really literally hold myself to that, I can metaphorically do it.”

“Perhaps I just like to hear you say it.” Farondis shoots back, letting go of your hands to draw you into his arms, pressing you against his form. There’s a little give - he’s not completely solid, after all - but he’s very soft, nice and cool against the warm autumn day.

“You like hearing me talk, but I think you like hearing me _moan_ better.” He blushes when you say it out loud, pale cheeks darkening with the blood that no longer flows through his spectral veins. It’s adorable. “Especially when I’m moaning your name.”

“Come now, Beloved, don’t speak like that in public…” he looks around frantically for a moment, before you reach up and put your hands on his cheeks, drawing him back to your face. Your thumbs frame his beard. “What if someone were to hear us?”

“Let them. They all know we’re close anyway. I assume half of them think we’re fucking.”

His blush is now to the tips of his ears, making his face bright with it, and he coughs a little, completely for show, embarrassed. “Perhaps we should adjourn to a more...private location, Beloved?”

“What, so I can suck you off against a wall? Sounds good to me.” You turn, playfully pretend-marching off towards one of the palace’s less-crumbling rooms, something you’ve turned into the place you stay when you come here for long periods of time. You can hear him murmuring something as he follows after you.

Ghosts make no footfalls.

You push open the wooden door and sweep aside the gossamer curtain into what’s become your - and his - private chambers. A circular stone room with high windows and one of the few still-standing structures that isn’t in danger of crumbling. With some magical - and physical - enhancements and fixes, you’ve been able to turn it into some humble living quarters, with a real bed (much better for your back than sleeping on the cold, hard ground), and some other comfortable pieces of furniture and art. In one corner, a stringed instrument lays on a cushion against a bookshelf. Narthalas might be underground and underwater, but you’ve brought your own tomes here as well.

His lips find yours and you melt into his kisses, warm and hungry and sweet. He kisses you a few more times, then pulls back, stroking your hair. It’s gotten a bit longer since you left. “Oh, how I’ve missed you…” His voice is a low, trembling whisper.

“I’ve missed you too,” you admit, and for a moment it’s just the two of you, the rest of the world outside your door vanishing as you stand together. Then you grin, and kiss him again, tugging him playfully down to the bed.

Farondis laughs, caught off-guard by the sudden movement, and comes down with you, tumbling into the blankets. They’re cold, just like him, but you’ll all warm up soon as you start kissing him more. His beard tickles lightly as his lips move to your cheek, then your neck, kissing down your throat. He pauses when you push your hands at his collar.

“Beloved, allow me to do this,” he asks you, patiently, and you get comfy in the pillows as he slowly begins to remove your clothing. You don’t have to wear a lot of layers when you come to visit, and you’re grateful for that, as his lips and tongue follow his deft fingers as they part the fabric of your shirt.

You’ve learned a lot about how ghosts fuck, you little expert, you.

Watching him just makes the sensations hotter, as he cups one of your breasts through your under-clothes and mouths at your nipple until you’re whining at him and tugging on his shimmering strands of long, white hair. “Please,” you catch yourself whimpering, and he just chuckles in his throat and pulls down the fabric to latch on with his hot-cool lips and tongue.

Farondis takes his time exploring your body, leaving you topless for a while and just kissing you all over. His big hands caress your skin, and you’ve never felt so worshipped in all your life before. He really, genuinely cares for you, and it makes your heart ache in a good way.

Continuing down your front he licks and kisses and nibbles at the seam of fabric where your underclothes meet your waist, and just nuzzles through your clothes, his golden eyes glowing faintly at you until you demand he move. Grinning still, Farondis divests you of the rest of your clothes, but before he returns, he makes a gesture, and _all_ of his own clothes vanish.

“Hey, that’s a new trick. Also it’s _cheating,_ ” you protest with a grin as he crawls back onto the bed and settles beside you, holding you and kissing you again. You can feel the length of his cool body pressing into your hot, sweaty side, and the temperature difference makes you shiver for many reasons.

“I practised for days until my clothes didn’t go some place random, like out in the middle of the courtyard.” Farondis teases you, sending long fingers down your front between your breasts and settling right over your hips before delving down between them.

His ghostly hand glides between your slick, hot pussy lips and parts them, making you moan with desire. His thumb settles on your clit as he slowly begins to work you open. Clearly you’re not the only one affected by this, as you feel his cock harden against your thigh and he buries his face in your neck, muffling his moan.

“You want me so bad, don’t you?” You pant, one hand coming up to caress his cheek. He squirms a little, humping against your hot flesh.

“Yes, I do, forgive me, I do…” Farondis whimpers into your neck, coming up to give you a bashful, embarrassed look. He looks ashamed of himself, ashamed of his wanton desire of you.

“Don’t worry - I want you too, my Prince, my Farondis…” As you say his name, ending in a soft hiss, his fingers twist inside you from his reaction, pushing up into your most sensitive spots, earning him a cry of your own pleasure as it throbs through you, almost painful in strength. “ _Fuck_ , right _fucking_ there, do that again!”

He does. Farondis gets up on an elbow and props himself up, finger-fucking you hard and fast. You can hear him gasping for the air he does not need, his face intense, trying to concentrate on you, rather than his own pleasure. “Come for me, Beloved, let me hear you say my name again…”

“Farondis!” You arch off the blankets as you come, arms around him, tugging him down and close, shaking and shivering, pussy pulsing around his fingers as you ride the waves of ecstasy to completion.

He’s murmuring something into your shoulder, humping uselessly against your thigh, and you chuckle breathlessly and slide your hand between the both of you, closing your palm around his dick. It throbs, hot-cool in your hand, and you spread your thighs and rub the head of it against your dripping pussy, up and down, side to side, teasing him.

“P-please, Beloved, torment me no longer…” Farondis moans in your ear. “Please, take me inside of you...I want to be part of you…”

“Shh. I love you.” Kissing him softly as you guide his cock fully into your body, and he shudders, gripping you more tightly when he’s buried to the hilt. Hot and cool running chills up and down your spine from the mixed sensations just drive you higher, pulling you back from your ebbing previous orgasm and towards another one. “Mmm...you’re so hard…”

“All for you, just for you, my Beloved...oh, I have waited so long for this…” Farondis admits with a dark blush and moan, starting to move, starting to fuck you. Clearly he’s been wanting to do this for a while. “To hold you in my arms this way, and make love to you…”

“You sap.” It’s a breathy laugh, a playful insult that isn’t meant as such, and he just crushes you to him as he fucks you harder, faster, deeper. It’s so incredibly good, intense and pleasurable, feeling the friction of the drag of his cock in and out of your tight walls. You lift your hips, arching your back and pushing your knees up to get him deeper, and the pleasure burns inside you, making your vision blur. “Don’t stop…”

He keeps going, whispering promises in your ear, promises of love and pleasure, begging you for all of it, pleading for reassurance that you want it, want him just as much as he wants you. Even as you tug his hair and squeeze his back and clench tight as you approach your next climax, you try and give him what he needs so badly, the words of love he’s always wanted to hear.

Both of you come together, crying out into the midafternoon air in your small chamber, tumbling into ecstasy as his hips grind into yours uselessly, feeling the hot-cold flood of cum from his cock deep inside your pussy, creating an endless feedback loop of delirious pleasure until both of you are completely wrecked on the bed, dripping onto the blankets.

He clutches at you tightly, refusing to let you go, and you do the same until your arms start to get sore, releasing him. He rolls off from on top of you and snuggles to your side, pressed as close as he can, arm around you, nose in your cheek as he rests.

“I love you so much…” you run your finger up his arm and cup his cheek, and kiss him again. He smiles into it, relaxed and happy once more. “I’m glad I came home to you.”


	2. Bwonsamdi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many bone-ing jokes, so little time.

“You bring a lot of souls to Bwonsamdi,” the Loa chuckles, coming into view above the darkness of the altar. His temple is full of swirling souls, the whisper of dead voices, all ebbing into silence.

You haven’t seen the floor of the room beyond the altar.

You aren’t sure there _is_ one.

“Well, you _did_ ask for them.” You shrug, arms resting loosely at your sides. Ever since this expedition took you to new places, you’ve been more and more curious about these Loa. You’ve met a lot of them here - a frog, a turtle, a tiger, a dinosaur - but the one decked out in gently-clinking bones holds your gaze for longer than the others. “It’s part of our bargain, right?”

“Oh, yes.” Bwonsamdi gestures, coming down to stalk around you in an inspecting circle. “I knew that you had it in you. It’s good to have some...new blood around these old bones.” He chuckles at his own joke and you smile politely.

You’re not here for his puns, charming as they are.

“So. Our bargain.” You follow him with your eyes, and his grin widens.

“You’re an odd little creature, you know that? Most come to Bwonsamdi asking for power, for something they can show off, or hold above someone else. But not you.”

“I’m already plenty powerful,” you boast, resting your hand on your weapon for a moment. The weight of it on your back is reassuring. “Besides. My legend isn’t about my prowess in battle anyway.”

“Oh, they’ll be speaking your name for generations to come,” Bwonsamdi laughs as he draws closer, feet still not quite touching the ground as he looms above you. He can be enormous, but right now, he’s about the same size. Maybe just a little bit taller. “And old Bwonsamdi is always pleased to have visitors.”

Nazmir isn’t your favourite place to come, but it’s rapidly becoming one of the _easiest_ places to come.

He’s solid enough to wrap claw-like bone fingers around your wrists and playfully drag you to the altar. You follow with a giggle, pretending to protest. “Oh, am I a sacrifice today?”

“That’s right, Champion, one of the most powerful sacrifices to old Bwonsamdi that the Horde might offer,” he teases you, and by the time you step onto the raised platform you’re already falling into character.

“No! I don’t want to be sacrificed! Please, Mighty Loa, spare me!” You moan, turning and twisting in his grasp.

“Your soul will be mine,” Bwonsamdi purrs, “unless you have something better to offer Bwonsamdi?”

A moment of playful hesitation before you take a breath and respond. “W-what about a sacrifice of a different kind?”

“Oh? I’m listening.”

You flounder for a moment, then gesture to yourself. “Take my body, but leave my soul…?”

Bwonsamdi laughs darkly and with a smooth movement, rips the front of your robes open. The noise of shredding fabric fills the echoey temple as the fabric falls apart uselessly, leaving your bare skin exposed to the cool air - and his touches. You yelp, the surprise not completely faked, when it happens, but his hands pushing you down to the stone table and groping all over you just get you more and more excited.

“I’ll be taking what I want from you, _whatever_ I want,” the Loa threatens, “so you’d best be hoping this body of yours is enough for Bwonsamdi.”

Delightful shivers crisscross your skin as his boney hands explore your body as if for the first time, inspecting, pinching, prodding, and squeezing. You moan as he twists a nipple between his thumb and first digit, turned on by the role-play and being in such a helpless position.

Bwonsamdi may be powerful, but you know you could probably kick his ass if you really needed to.

Probably.

“P-please, Bwonsamdi, take anything you want from me…” you moan, squirming under his grasp.

The fire in his eye sockets blazes. “ _Anything_ , you say?”

“Oh, _anything_!”

“Then I’ll be taking this, too.” His hand moves to your hips, pressing down and down, cupping you through what’s left of your robes. “All of this is gonna be mine.”

“B-but I’ve never done _that_ before!” It’s a blatant lie, of course, but still hot. “I-I was saving that for someone special!”

“And old Bwonsamdi ain’t special enough?” He teases, his boney fingers sliding under the torn robes and between your thighs. They slip in your hot slickness, already intensely turned on but the scene. “Your body don’t agree with your words. It’s saying it wants Bwonsamdi and nobody else.”

“But...I...oh…” You’re helpless to resist as he plays with your pussy, the click of his bones against each other a sharp noise in the dark temple.

He doesn’t kiss you (he never does, and you’ve never asked), but his head comes down to rest on your stomach, chuckling darkly as he fingers you open. “Your body is ripe for Bwonsamdi’s old bones,” he laughs, “so why don’t you just make the deal?”

“D-don’t make me say it,” you gasp, feeling his fingers slide in and out of you.

“A bargain is a bargain.” Bwonsamdi drawls, and the smoke curling from his skull-covered features accentuates the expression. “I’ll be sparing your life, in exchange, after all. You get to keep your soul.”

“P-please, Mighty Loa of Death, take my body, fuck my pussy and make me yours…”

His laughter echoes throughout the temple, and the rest of your robes are gone in seconds as he rips and pushes them away, though he keeps his own kilts on. He drags your body to the edge of the altar and sinks between your thighs, the heavy fabric obscuring your view of everything below your breasts and belly.

You’ve never actually _seen_ his dick, but the thing that brushes against your pussy lips is _definitely_ the right kind of bone. It’s hard and thick and hot, and wet of its own accord, as eager as you are.

Bwonsamdi wastes no more time; his thrusts are like punches, each one making you gasp out in pleasure and sensation, writhing, arching your back on the stone table in the scene, the mock-sacrifice, an exchange for all the souls you’ve brought him and even if you haven’t brought as many as last time, he’s still more than willing to host you for a while.

It’s so hot you feel like you’re going to melt as he holds your legs up and out, fucking you with the intensity that no mortal could have. His strength and stamina mean that you’ll be limping for a while after, but it’s so, _so_ worth it. His cock stretches you perfectly, and you imagine it has ridges and piercings and some other features that just make you squirm so delightedly as you’re stuffed full. It feels incredible, and the fact that you _can’t_ see it just makes it more intense.

“When I come inside you, it seals the bargain,” Bwonsamdi threatens, and you clench around him tightly, pretending to fight it. Actually, you _do_ fight it a little - you don’t want to come so soon!

“Noooo,” you moan, twisting and pushing, feeling your own orgasm building and building, making you pant and writhe. “Don’t come inside me!”

But it’s too late. With a laugh of triumph, you can feel the hot gushes of cum inside you, splashing and filling you up, and you come harder than ever before, seizing around his cock and gripping him tight, keeping him deep inside you.

His face comes up towards yours, lips pulled back in a lustful, dark grin.

“You belong to Bwonsamdi now,” he purrs.

Honestly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.


	3. Sylvanas and Nathanos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's good to be the Warchief's girlfriend.

“He looks lovely like this, doesn’t he?”

“He sure does.”

Sylvanas nudges the kneeling man on the floor with the tips of her toes. Both she and you have spent the past twenty minutes slowly making out in front of Nathanos, who is currently on his knees, hands bound behind his back, a collar and muzzle on, glaring pointedly at you. “Behave, Blightcaller, or I’ll put you outside.”

It’s all part of the play, of course. Nathanos is her champion, her greatest hero. Probably the only person she actually, truly loves these days (aside from maybe her sisters). He’s only on the floor because he likes it, and he’s only giving you angry eyes because she permits it.

She _is_ Warchief, after all.

“He’s such a good pet.” You lean forward and stroke his hair. Nathanos’ eyes lower, his eyelids fluttering. He likes the attention. “We can share him today.”

“I like the sound of that,.” Sylvanas agrees. She slides a cool hand up your flank, pulling you in for a surprisingly chaste kiss. Both of you are her greatest heroes, and even if she seems to be playing with you both, you know she respects you.

Enough, at least. “Up, then.” You gently tug on his collar and he obediently crawls up into the bed with you. All three of you are naked at this point in the evening, except for Nathanos. Well, he’s naked, but all the gear on him still counts. Both you and he are very grateful that Sylvanas decided to forego the cock cage tonight (you think it’s cruel, and boy oh boy does he ever hate it), so he’s been hard the whole time. It probably hurts.

It turns you on more than you’d thought it would.

“I want to see him fuck you,” Sylvanas requests idly, and you nod eagerly.

“That sounds good to me.” You’re about to start getting comfortable on the bed when she lays a cool hand on your shoulder. “My Lady?”

“Hmm, how about on your hands and knees?”

“Sure.” _A dog should fuck like a dog_ , you chuckle to yourself, amused, as you roll over and stretch a bit before she brings Nathanos closer.  You can feel him, the weight of him making the bed dip between your legs as you let her spread you a little wider open. Part of you wants to ask her to take the muzzle off of him, but you know she likes it like that.

Once Nathanos is in place properly, Sylvanas starts dragging his cock up and down your pussy. You’ve been slick ever since the two of you started making out, but you’re not yet wet enough to take his cock. The teasing helps - the thought of him filling you up is so delicious. Ever since she was made Warchief, you’ve really gotten to know her, to join her in her bed, and it’s been so rewarding. Nathanos is just as devoted a partner, and enjoying him in private moments can be fun, too.

“Hmm, I might need some help,” you sheepishly admit, as you glance over your shoulder. Nathanos nods gratefully, even as Sylvanas pouts and bends to rummage around for some lubricant. While her back is turned, Nathanos bends artfully at the waist and presses his forehead against your lower back in an affectionate nuzzle. The leather-and-steel Goblin-made muzzle never touches your warm flesh. But the touch is gone again when Sylvanas returns, as if it were never there.

The lube is cold and you shiver as she slips it inside of you. Both she and Nathanos have the same body temperature as the lubricant, so he doesn’t make a sound as Sylvanas drizzles it over him. With the extra wetness, he sinks right inside you, and you nearly fall forward, your elbows giving way as his thick, heavy cock slides inside you like a key into a lock. His dick is always, _always_ a perfect fit and you’re seeing stars, face-down in the pillows, already starting to lose coherency.

If you could form words right now, you’d beg for more. Or at least, ask if she could unbind his hands so that he could touch you. You love, love, _love_ the feeling of his broad, rough palms touching you all over, but this scene is as much for Sylvanas as it is for you, and your mouth is having a hard time finding your tongue, so you don’t. As Nathanos keeps fucking you with his hands bound behind his back, you suddenly notice Sylvanas has moved. She’s now behind him, and by the look on his face she’s preparing _him_ , too.

You can’t tell from here, but it’s probably her favourite double-ended dildo. She likes taking him with it, and sometimes she even uses it on you, too, both of you riding it together into ecstasy. Right now though, you can just hear his muffled noises through the muzzle as he tries to keep it together. His thrusts become rougher, more erratic, and you lose the ability to think altogether, just holding on to a pillow limply as his swollen cock grinds out a delicious pleasure inside you. It’s hotter and hotter, despite his cold skin, and you hold your orgasm back, forcing it down, fighting the pleasure because you know that if you come too quickly you won’t enjoy the rest. Sylvanas can go for _hours_.

Lucky for you, during the process of getting the dildo inside him, Sylvanas has to have him stop moving. She drags him back a bit, pulling his cock out of you completely. It makes a slurping, sticky-wet popping noise as it slides free from your hungry, pulsing pussy, and you take the opportunity to slump down once more, fully horizontal, catching your breath. Everything inside you _screams_ to get his cock back in there, but you quash it, ordering yourself to be patient. It’ll be so, so much better later anyway.

The two of them are moving behind you and you look over your shoulder. His head is back, his cock dripping between his legs, bobbing as she fucks him. One of her hands is in his hair, the other around his throat, fingers in his collar while she moves, making him twist and snarl, much more like the animal she playfully suggested he acts like.

After a few more moments of this, Sylvanas bends him again and fishes for his cock blindly, using it like a sword, stabbing it towards you. You get back on  your hands and knees once more, backing up into him, until you feel the tip of his cock spreading your lips open again. As you sink back on to his cock, you can hear him whimpering under the muzzle, feel the throb of his thick hardness as it’s finally nestled safely deep inside you. Since his body is technically dead, you’ve never had to worry about disease or pregnancy (as fond as they are of plague, the former residents of Undercity seem to be clean). Bareback, the feeling of his cock in your pussy is nearly overwhelming as now he’s fucking trying to stay inside you, and keep his Warchief’s cock inside his ass at the same time. It’s an intensity that’s not lost on you.

You can feel it now, and you won’t be able to hold it back this time. You’re too close, with the way his hips are slamming into yours, his cock sliding home every goddamn time, against all your most sensitive spots. You bite the pillow and fight it with every ounce of your being, but it’s just not happening. The dizzying spiral of pleasure is pushing you higher and higher and higher, and your quivering, quaking thighs won’t stop tensing, your muscles squeezing his cock until you _absolutely_ have to let go or you’re going to die.

You can feel it coming, your orgasm, and it rips through you, your release like a powerful torrent, gushing around Nathanos’ still-thrusting, piston-like cock, squirting with the force of it, leaving you a trembling, soggy wreck on the pillows, limply splayed out as he continues to thrust throughout the whole time. The pleasure won’t stop, but you can’t move; the pleasure has paralyzed you temporarily. You can feel him as he slows down a bit, the cool drag of his cock making you shudder and clench up again, your toes curling from where they’re splayed out behind you.

The rest of the scene feels like a dream. Sylvanas comes with a wail, finishing herself before letting Nathanos do it. Finally she rolls off and away, but before she can release him from any of his bonds, she slips from the messy bed and slinks away.

Both of you stop your fucking to watch her go, watch the door close behind her. Confused, you look up at the panting, shaking Nathanos. He looks confused, bewildered,so you use what little energy you have left to roll over, sitting up and awkwardly unbinding his wrists. Once they’re free, both of you work on getting the muzzle and collar off. With the scene over, Nathanos falls on you, kissing you over and over. It’s so, _so_ good to have his mouth on yours, his beard scratch-tickling your face and throat, and he’s humping between your legs until you guide him back into your body so he can finish there.

“Come inside me. Please. I want to feel it,” you murmur in his ear, and he keeps thrusting for a few more minutes before groaning out his orgasm, feeling the cool pulse of it deep inside you. You’re too limp and relaxed to wrap your legs around him, but you want to keep him close, so you bend and stretch to pull up the non-destroyed part of the blanket and flip it over his lower back.

“Mm. Don’t you dare move, now,” you mock-threaten him and he laughs breathlessly, his softly-glowing red eyes flashing with amusement. He doesn’t move, and despite his solid weight on top of you, it’s comfortable. There’s no sign Sylvanas is coming back - she usually likes to take a long, hot shower and immediately get back to work after these scenes, so the two of you are probably going to be left alone for a while.

“I have no intention of going anywhere,” Nathanos drawls lazily, resting his chin on your shoulder. One of your hands goes up and strokes his hair, and he makes a contented noise, happy for the touch, happy to be pet. It was an intense scene, and he’s pretty needy right now, wanting to be cuddled and reassured and held. You do your best, bending your other arm at the elbow and resting your palm on his side, spreading your fingers against his back. He melts again a little at the touch. Normally he wear so many layers — as does she — that it’s impossible to touch him like this.

You revel in any chance you get to do so.

It used to make you jealous, the sight of them together, until they welcomed you into their relationship so completely and utterly. You’ve never felt like an outsider again, never felt like you weren’t an equal — at least, in terms of snuggle time.

Nathanos is kissing your neck behind your ear and you turn, rolling over. He slides off of you, then curls up at your side, both of you curled up in each other as you kiss, slow and tender. He lifts a leg and you tangle yours with his, Nathanos’ arm slinging over your shoulder and pulling you as close as he can, pressing your chests together.

“I love how warm you are,” he admits quietly between kisses, a soft murmur. You stroke his cheek, brushing his beard with the backs of your fingers, and he closes his eyes. Smiling, you continue to touch him, giving him all the warmth he wants.

The sheets might be destroyed, but the two of you are healed and whole once more.


	4. Chapter 4

“I thought I saw you glance in my direction.” 

You groan a little to yourself, but smile. He  _ always  _ wants to meet like this, like it’s the very first time, strangers in a seedy bar. You’ve been committed to each other ever since first striking up a conversation in the bowels of Dalaran’s underbelly during the Legion incursion, but due to both of your busy schedules, you don’t get to see each other often. So it came as a surprise to you - a nice one - when he picked you up in a dive bar just like this one, swept you off your feet, and made love to you like it was the last night on Azeroth. 

You’re hoping for a repeat performance tonight. It’s all part of the game, after all. 

“A mysterious man? I couldn’t take my eyes off you.” You purr back at him, as he slides onto the bar stool beside you. He tips his drink back, and you watch his throat bob as he takes long pulls before putting it down again. “I still can’t.” 

“You won’t want to, trust me.” He chuckles, giving you a heated look. “I’m a dangerous man to take lightly.” 

“Oh?” You lean back, sipping from your own drink, the one he sent down the bar to you. It’s something spicy and dark, tickling your nose. “Sounds to me like you’re trouble.” 

“Only to my enemies.” His eyes flash. His diminutive stature makes him look so harmless, but you know he could do anything he wanted before melting into the shadows. 

“Well, I like a little trouble from time to time. It’s fun to get into it when you’re with someone who’s good at it…” you hold his eyes above the rim of your glass, then put it down empty, decisively. 

“Trust me, I’m the  _ best  _ at what I do.” 

“Then lead on.” 

Before you’d met him, you’d never suspected a man to mix work and play so much as Shaw did, but he does. The lush jungle night of Zandalar is alive with noise and motion, the wind in the trees, the dinosaurs traipsing around, and eyes and ears everywhere. 

And hands. Hands are everywhere, too. 

You didn’t expect anything else from Shaw, because working dates are kind of his thing, but he’s never inattentive or rude about it. He always makes it fun, like right now, on a ledge above a newly-established Horde outpost, a great vantage point to see and hear everything below the two of you. 

If you can keep quiet enough that they don’t hear you. 

Your cloaking spells only work while you’re both silent, and it’s so, so hard to be quiet when his rough, masculine hands are roving all of your body, claiming you once again with his touch and his mouth. You’re on your back, laying in a nest of both of your clothing, his coats and your gear below you. Your hands in his hair, breathing as evenly as you can to stop from moaning as his hot mouth finds a nipple and his fingers delve between your slick thighs. 

It’s so hot out here. 

He comes up for kisses again, stealing them from your mouth, while your hands slide from his head to his back, squeezing the muscles there, listening to him growl under his breath, trying his best to keep quiet as well. From below, you can faintly hear the noise of a fire, and louder words of conversation. It’s a mix of Orcish and Zandalari, both of which Matthias speaks fluently, and you’ve been doing your best to learn in the past few weeks. Something about the local patrols and raising baby dinosaurs. It doesn’t make a lot of sense, but there’s no indication they’re speaking in code, so there’s probably  _ actual  _ baby dinosaurs in day-care around here somewhere. 

It almost makes you giggle, until you feel the drag of his cock between your lips. 

With a stifled moan, you drop your hips, letting your thighs part a little more as he fists his cock and teases you with it, drawing it up and down, getting it nice and slick with your juices before pushing the head inside you. He always feels like he’s stuffing you full of cock, he’s so thick, and you bite his shoulder. He grunts, and you both freeze for a moment, hoping you haven’t been heard. 

The burning desire to wrap your legs around his hips and  _ shove  _ the rest of him inside you is almost overpowering, but the voices below you have gone silent and your heart is hammering away inside your chest as you wait for some confirmation that they haven’t heard you. Sweat trickles down the side of your brow and you swear you can hear a mosquito in the air before the babble of conversation begins again. 

With the knowledge that you’re safe, Shaw eases the rest of the way inside you and begins to thrust. This is always the hardest part, keeping quiet at the very beginning, when the pleasure threatens to overwhelm you. The sensations, as if new and for the very first time, are so good and so intense, and the knowledge that all the Horde has to do is look up in the right way and you’ll be spotted and have to run for your lives, naked through the jungle, just turns you on so much. 

The thought of Shaw’s pasty ginger butt jiggling as he runs at top-speed through the Zandalari jungle makes you laugh so hard you have to physically smother yourself as to not be heard. 

He pulls back and gives you a look, a bushy brow raised high on his forehead, and you shake your head and grin.  _ Later,  _ you mouth to him, and he rolls his eyes and kisses you again. After a few more minutes of thrusting, though, both of you snap apart as the conversation below changes to something serious and intense. They’re discussing construction plans for a nearby bridge, and Shaw pulls back long enough for you to roll over and peek over the edge. Cheekily, he pushes in behind you, fucking you from behind so that you can both see down into the small outpost’s clearing and get a better view of the map that they’ve got open on the table. 

He doesn’t stop fucking you as both of you continue to spy on the Horde. In fact, his thrusts get rougher and it’s so, so hard to stay quiet. It’s even  _ more  _ vital now that you’re looking down, as the shadow invisibility spell is the only thing keeping them from looking up and spotting you with a direct line of eyesight. 

The pleasure and intensity just makes you shiver as you feel his hips gripping your thighs as he really lets you have it, his cock fucking you deep and hard and thoroughly opening you up. 

You cum while they’re discussing the last details, and Shaw clamps a thick palm over your mouth as you whimper, muscles rippling with contractions of pleasure as you shiver and shake, hopefully not dislodging any rocks or dirt on the overhang you’re on. While you’re recovering from your pleasurable haze, you can feel him cum inside you, deep, filling you up. He’s utterly silent, just his breathing barely audible. 

Both of you crawl back onto the nest of clothes and recover while you listen to more of the plans drifting up from below. Shaw strokes your breast, your side, your cheek, pulling you close and against him. He’s unbelievably tender for such a military man of spies, even with both of you on extra alert for danger in your wildly inappropriate state. 

One of these days, you think to yourself, as you kiss his cheek, you’re going to have to  _ let  _ yourself get caught, just to see what happens. 

That, and you’re an ass girl. 

 


	5. Kalecgos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: "sigh. I need to write some h/c reader/Kalecgos"  
> My beta: *heart eyes*

It’s quiet in Dalaran again. 

Back when the Legion was in town, it was a hub of activity. A hundred voices all at once, clamour in the streets, vendors rolling out their tables full of wares for soldiers, adventurers, mercenaries, and champions of all shapes and sizes. 

Horde and Alliance, getting along. There’s a bitter pang in your heart as you think about it, but you just push it aside and press on. 

Nowadays the hustle and bustle has moved to the new cities. The new Alliance and Horde capitals, shining and strong. You’ve seen both of them in your travels - the tall, glamorous gold of Dazar’alor and the bold, proud architecture of the human capital in Boralus. Not every merchant would sell you things (you were undercover, after all), but still, you enjoyed the scenery. 

Dalaran is more back to its usual self now, still floating around, but much less intense. The tourists have cleared away, the champions have all moved on, and the citizens don’t pay you any mind as you tug your cloak a little closer and head up towards the Violet Citadel. 

Your steps on the marble floor echo softly to your ears, and one of the arcane blobs that moves around notices you. It comes over, addresses you telepathically, and asks your business. 

“I’m here to see Kalecgos. No, he isn’t expecting me,” you explain to the blob, and it pauses, then shimmers out of phase. 

You wander over to a bookshelf, sliding an ancient tome out of the case, turning the first few pages before you hear a voice behind you. 

“Er, please, put that down, mortal. You aren’t a mage, and those are quite dangerous in unskilled hands…” 

You smile and slide it back into place, turning. Kalecgos, just Kalec like this, looking very concerned indeed. There are deep circles under his eyes, and his long, blue hair is shaggy and unkempt. 

“Tut tut. For a dragon, you seem very unrefined today.” 

He gives you a withering look - but wearily. “Is there some way in which I might help you?” 

“From the High King.” You take the small scroll out of your pocket and gesture at Kalec. 

The great blue dragon sighs. “He knows that as part of the Council of Six and an Archmage of Dalaran, I have an sworn an oath of neutrality, right?” 

“It’s regarding Jaina Proudmoore.” 

He snatches the rolled-up parchment from your hands and holds it open, reading it quickly. Zero to sixty in three point five, clearly. He reads it twice, then lowers his hands. 

You sort of guessed what the message would be when Anduin gave it to you. He wasn’t excited to share it. “Everything all right? Shall I bring a response to His Majesty?” 

Kalec doesn’t say anything for a moment, just lets his chin fall to his chest. You can’t see his face behind the curtain of blue bangs, and you take a step, then another, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

He half-flinches, as though even his instincts don’t have the energy to move him. “I was afraid of this.” 

“It’s true, I’m afraid,” you say gently, assuming the contents are the latest battle reports that you know of. “She is alive, but her ordeals have been many. Has she given no missive for you to come to her side?” 

His look is pained. “I would be at her side in an instant if she wished it, regardless of my oath.” Kalec’s voice is a whisper, hoarse, thin. “But she will not have me. Not anymore. And though she’s given me her reasons, I still cannot fully understand why.” 

“The heart wants what it wants,” you offer, and he looks away. A pause, then, “Did His Majesty request a response?” 

Kalec blinks, then reads the bottom of the page again. “No,” he finally says, “and honestly, I have nothing to say, really. I think he just wanted to let me know what was happening, since Jaina isn’t talking to me.” 

“Forgive me for speaking so bluntly and boldly.” You look at him sideways as you stand. “The Lord Admiral is a fool for having let you go.” 

His head whips around to look at you, his body following in surprise. You continue. “I have no idea what runs through her head, but it seems her stubborn pride is both her best and worst aspect.” You tick off her lovers on your hands, watching his wince become more pronounced with each one. “Human royalty, Elven royalty, faction leadership, and a dragon; she rejects a higher possible station every time. Even her station now is given by chance, not choice, by pure lottery of birth.” 

“Princes Menethil and Kael’thas went mad, the former Warchief has his own wife and child, and I am...I am…” His voice falters. “I am not rejected, am I? Not forever?” 

“Perhaps, perhaps not.” You shrug, watching him. “Then again, your preference for blonde mortal women may lead you down another path before the Lord Admiral sends word for you.” 

Kalecgos blushes to his ears and glares at you. “How  _ dare  _ you suggest—!” 

“Suggest  _ nothing.  _ You have a  _ type _ , Archmage, and most dragons have multiple consorts over the course of their lives.” You chuckle, crossing your arms, watching him flounder a bit. He flaps at you a little, then settles, looking guilty. “Ah, so you  _ have  _ been looking elsewhere!” 

“Be silent, mortal, for my magic is no less  _ refined _ so that I may halt your tongue for good!” 

You shut up, but smirk at him, and he eventually sighs and softens again. He even smiles as you pull back your hood. “Ah, I should have known you had other motives for seeing me.” 

“You’re a poor host if you don’t at least ask me to dinner first.” 

Kalecgos chuckles and looks down, then closes his eyes. “Am I so easily read? Did the High King send you to me, specifically? My reputation cannot be that widespread.” 

“Personal interest. I’m not a royal whore, if that’s what you’re thinking, but he  _ does  _ tend to favour my diplomatic skills, regardless of what form they come in.” 

His laugh is genuine, and fills you with warmth. “Come, then. Let’s have dinner.” 

A blue dragon, unsurprisingly, has a lot of stories to tell. A quiet table in the corner of the Legerdemain, dinner for two, lit with candles. The locals don’t even look twice, and the barmaid is tipped well. Talk becomes laughter becomes giggling becomes quiet looks, and after dinner, the two of you wander up the stairs into one of the unused rooms. 

You would never presume (or ask, for that matter) to be taken back to Kalec’s quarters. That would be too intimate. You’re just here for comfort, after all, not to create yet another love triangle. 

The door is locked with magic, and though the wine flowing through you makes you feel a bit light, neither of you are anywhere near drunk, and so his kisses taste sober enough to make you feel as though you’re truly not taking advantage of him. 

You wonder idly what a dragon’s dick is like in its natural form, then decide it’s not worth the reconstructive surgery. 

Despite his earlier reluctance, it’s Kalec who leads the kisses, deepening them, his warm mouth leaving yours for your neck. You moan softly, feeling his lips on your skin, hands sliding up into his hair and tugging gently to get him up and off so you can start stripping down. Both of you pull off just long enough to get your various layers off, then nearly bounce into the bed together. 

His touch is electric, his hands running up and down your skin, giving you gooseflesh and pleasant shivers. Kalec pushes you to sit on the side of the bed, then kneels between your legs, kissing your thighs and looking up at you, seeking approval, eyes hopeful. 

You pet his hair and nod, smiling down at him as he tentatively opens his mouth. 

His tongue is otherworldly, hot and liquid against your clit, and you aren’t more than a moment in before your hands are tightening in his hair and yanking up, but it’s too late, and you’re coming  _ hard,  _ shuddering into his unbelievable mouth. Holy  _ fuck _ . He keeps going, coaxing you, urging you on, slithering up and down, all around your clit and pussy lips, drinking you in and down, hands on your shaking thighs to keep you open as he closes his eyes and concentrates. 

You’re writhing on the bed, unable to sit up, chest heaving and head back, legs squirming and kicking around his head as he holds you steady and makes you come  _ again,  _ choked and quivering, a dripping mess around his slick mouth. 

He only emerges after your  _ third  _ orgasm, the one that has you brokenly moaning his name to the bedposts and limp. Kalec smiles, his tongue coming out to lick up a little of your juices from his chin and cheek, and just the sight makes you shiver again as you watch him. He helps tug you up into the pillows, getting you nice and comfy, before settling between your legs again. Without waiting, you can feel him part your slippery thighs and lift your hips, and you watch his face as he slides inside of you. 

His human cock feels amazing. It doesn’t feel any  _ differently _ than any mortal dick you’ve ever had, not shaped in any way, or like an electric prod, but it  _ does  _ fill you up just perfectly, and his face melts into a moan of his own, as his hands grip the blankets beside you on either side, his head dropping down, chin to his chest, taking deep, gulping, shuddering breaths. 

“Too long?” You quip softly, raising a tired hand to cup his cheek, tuck a little hair back behind his ear. 

“Too long.” He agrees with a gentle smile, nuzzling into your palm. And then he  _ thrusts _ . 

You jolt, head back into the pillows. As Kalec keeps thrusting deep inside you, hot waves of pleasure wash over you, fast and hard, like jolts of energy. You manage to find the strength to wrap your legs around his hips, and he lowers his, fucking you more quickly and desperately, dropping to his elbows and kissing you again. It’s frantic, his pace almost too much to handle, and you claw at his back, trying to keep up, trying to breathe at all. He seems to sense your distress and pulls back a little, but you nip his ear and tell him to keep going. “I want you to come inside of me when you’re done.” 

He jerks, shuddering, gasping. “A-are you sure? That’s not—I usually don’t—mortals don’t tend to want—” 

“I want to know what it feels like,” you purr, “and besides, if you’re worried about getting me pregnant, that can’t happen.” 

He chuckles weakly, then resumes thrusting, one arm sliding under your back to hold you, clutch at you, keep you pressed against his chest. 

“I  _ am  _ close, closer than I’d like,” he admits in a hurried, hushed whisper, nuzzling against your ear, stretching in the bed, “if we should only do this once, I want to do it  _ right _ , I want this to be good—” 

“It  _ is  _ good.” You kiss his cheek. “No regrets for either of us, all right? I promise.” 

“No regrets,” he echoes, “I promise.” He tucks his face against the side of your neck, kissing and licking and biting as he grinds into you, finally coming with a choked sob. It feels like a hot wave inside of you with each pulse of his orgasm, much,  _ much  _ more than any mortal could. It feels like he’s just going to keep coming and coming forever, filling you up, finally forced out of you by his weakening thrusts, but still enough to make you feel full and content. 

He doesn’t pull away from you, clutching you close to him, keeping you tightly in his arms. You pet his back, his hair, and for a few moments, all he can do is lay with you and recover. Feeling him sigh and smile against your neck and shoulder lets you know when he’s really done, and you tug him up for another kiss. 

Kalec gently pulls out, and you gasp as the gush of cum pours out of you. He makes an embarrassed noise and you push his face away with your palm. He laughs, and cuddles to your side once more. 

“Sorry. I wanted to warn you,” he admits sheepishly. “I should’ve told you how much there would be.” 

“Ahhh, it’s fine.” You wave it off, dismissive, and he rests his chin on your shoulder, arms wrapped loosely around your middle. You tangle a leg with his, reaching up a hand to slide your fingers into twine with his, and he smiles. “No regrets, right?” 

“Mmm. No regrets. You’re right, what you said before...I don’t feel bad about this,” he admits. “I’m glad I had this opportunity. Thank you. I’m glad we met.” 

“Me, too.” You kiss the top of his head, relaxing back into the pillows again. “Now, let me sleep. But you’d better not be gone when I wake up.” 

He makes a noise like he’s horrified at the prospect, and cuddles you fiercely. “Of course not.” Kalec’s voice is grumpy, almost offended. “I’ve never done that and I’m not about to start now.” 

“Good night, Kalecgos.” 

“Good night.” 

 


End file.
